Taste Test
by Curseofbunny
Summary: Butterflies lead to the truth. (post s2, Memphis/Pocket Dimension au, Amnesia au)
1. Chapter 1

"So, what's even in this?" Praxina squints at the glass, holding it up into the light. "I watched you make it, but it wasn't clear what anything was."

Nathaniel laughs, leaning into her space for a second to push a straw into the smoothie. "Strawberries, lime, coconut water, cranberries, grapes, pomegranate, and cherries. Don't you trust me?"

Praxina narrowed her eyes at him before shrugging and smiling. "Why not. Not like I have any other options."

He bumped her hip and she sighed, relaxing for the first time in what felt like months. Years, even, if she were being honest with herself.

Ever since… the battle on Ephedia, Praxina had been hiding out on Earth. At first she'd just been mindlessly raging, but then she had a good idea. Iris had taken someone from her, so she'd take someone from the stupid girl. The only difference between them was that Praxina wasn't capable of killing without reason.

Praxina had littered the world around the two lovebirds with her butterflies, frustrating Iris and driving the human boy crazy. No one else could see them, so it was kind of like a game. Praxina would set out a new butterfly, the boy would get upset, and Iris would clench her fists, freak out, and wait for Praxina to attack. Stupid princess.

The blow came when the human boy was alone, leaning out on the balcony he and his sister shared. The butterfly was on the railing before him, but this one stayed for a few minutes. Flapping her wings, slowly, letting him get a good look. Praxina teleported behind him and watched, fascinated, as he slowly offered the butterfly a finger and she crawled on. He'd turned around, jumped in fear and surprise, but the butterfly on his finger didn't disappear.

"Beautiful night," Praxina had said, arms crossed and nails, clawed under her gloves, tapping rhythmically. "Don't you think?"

"Whoa- where did you come from? How did you get up here?" He'd glanced around, but even when he looked back at her, the butterfly on his finger hadn't moved. Compared to the weeks of torture and barely seeing them from the corner of his eyes, she was sure this was a surprising change.

"Not important. Why don't we talk about what is important though?" Praxina had popped her hip and rested a hand on it, beckoning to her butterfly. "Your little pet murderer, Iris."

Her butterfly had flown and rested on her finger, his face shocked and confused.

"What? Iris isn't a murderer, she would never-"

"Ah bup bup, no interrupting." Praxina had narrowed her eyes. "I'm still getting used to this telling the truth thing, and this a very hard truth to tell." She'd watched her butterfly crawl into her palm, and closed her hand around it. When she reopened it, a crystal screen opened. She could see Nathaniel through it, but he'd been stuck seeing what she projected.

And then she'd projected it. What she'd seen happen to her brother, what Banes had seen happen to Gramorr, and Iris' hand in it.

The screen had clicked out of existence and the boy's face… The shock and pain was so familiar.

"Is that who you want in your bed?" Praxina asked, her single showing eyebrow arched. "Really?"

"Did… did she know what she was doing? Where was that, what was going on?" His voice cracked in pain, and Praxina had offered him a hand.

"Come with me, and I'll tell you everything."

She sips the smoothie, smile on her lips.

A lot had changed since then.

But one thing hadn't.

She still had Nate on her side.

He has an arm braced on the counter behind her as he watches her play with the straw on the smoothie, humming teasingly.

"So? Do you like it?" He asks.

Praxina giggles and sets it to the side, reaching up to cup the back of his head and pull him in for a sweet-tasting kiss. Short, sweet, hers.

"What do you think?" She whispers into his ear.

He slides a hand up her sweater, to cup the bare skin over her hip, and laughs. "I think you do."


	2. Chapter 2

The house is so empty without Aunt Ellen. Iris should have expected it, should have known that the only thing she had keeping her from loneliness all these years was her aunt. But somehow… everything suddenly feels so much more real with this sudden reminder.

She runs a hand over every doorway and wall she passes, heart tight in her throat and worry running rampant. She gets to the atrium and lets herself slide to the floor.

Auriana was in Volta for the weekend, reconnecting with her family as they were getting freed and finally slowly coming back together. Talia was on a tense mission with Izira, both searching for the missing medallion. Lyna and Carissa had respectfully refused to come back to Earth, Ellen was rebuilding her home in Calix, and Iris' parents were rebuilding their castle and the lives of their subjects.

Nathaniel was Praxina's.

Iris was alone.

She pulls a flowerpot, the one that'd held Rosie in it before Talia insisted they unenchant the flower, and holds her hand in front of the bloom. She doesn't remember the spell she used, but when her hand shakily opens up a magic circle, Rosie comes back to life and starts whining.

It… isn't the same.

Rosie starts to rub her bud against Iris' hand, looking for affection, but all Iris can do is start sniffling as she pats the flower gently. It isn't enough, isn't the same as talking to her best friend or her aunt or any of her other friends.

But they were all gone, and she was stuck. Alone. Scared.

The barrier was still strong, so Praxina couldn't get in… but Nathaniel was probably still able. Iris had no real protection against him because she'd never needed it, but once Praxina got her clutches in him… Iris hadn't had any options.

Ugh, why hadn't she just found Praxina and attacked her? Made her stop the butterflies before she carried out her plot, before she turned the most important person in Iris' life against her? Why had Iris letting the villainess have time to grieve get turned so far against her? It wasn't fair and she was getting so frustrated and angry with herself over the whole thing.

There were other people she could reach out to, Doug and Kyle, Joanna, Lily, even Missy and her prissy best friends. But none of them were her friends, they'd chosen Nate.

They'd chosen Nate over her.

She didn't blame them.

Iris supposed she even deserved this whole mess. It was her fault that Mephisto had died, her fault that Gramorr had died, her fault that Praxina had turned to even worse measures. Just a few weeks before Praxina had proved that there was still good in her heart, and then Iris had gone and burnt it to a crisp. All that was left was ashes, hatred, and disgust for her, and she honestly couldn't blame the other girl. It was her fault.

Iris sets Rosie down and blindly closes the magic circle that'd been keeping the plant animated, accidentally sucking the life out of the rose in the process.

She claps a hand over her mouth when she realizes what she'd done, but it's too late.

A shard of dark pink crystal had slid up through the dirt and pierced the rosebud.

Iris…

She grabbed the pot and threw it at the far wall, cracking the glass there. The tears start to flow freely now in the wake of the flower-dog's death. When had her touch turned poisonous? What had she done wrong?

"I'm sorry." She whispers, face getting red and puffy as gross sobs start deep in her chest. She feels like all the plants are watching her, judging her, scared of her.

"I didn't mean to."

They don't accept her apologies, but then again… neither can Mephisto.


	3. Chapter 3

He did not know his name. He'd woken up inside a purple crystal ball. He knew that wasn't the right word for it, but he didn't know what else to call it, either. And there was a shining woman, with orange hair and a feathery voice. He also didn't know how long he'd been in the ball, when she tapped on it a few times, like... he knew he could compare it to something, but he couldn't think of the words. Well, she'd tapped on the crystal to get his attention, and then demanded to know how he got into her pocket dimension.

He didn't know who she was, or who he himself was, for that matter. Or what a pocket dimension was. When he told her as much, she'd blinked in surpise before gesturing at the ball. It shattered, and he fell to the floor with a yelp and a muffled thud. She knelt next to him, and offered her hand.

"My name is Morgaine, Mephisto of Runic. I created this pocket dimension as a place of study and isolation, and only leave it every 10 years." His name was Mephisto of Runic? That's a bit of a mouthful, but it's better than a yawning gap of nothing. He certainly knew... things, like words for items and situations, but... he couldn't recall any specific... anything. So he took the name Morgaine had christened him with, and responded to her, finally.

"When was the last time you left?" He assumed he'd be stuck here until the next time she... took her leave? He supposed that was a good enough turn of phrase.

"No less than 6 short months ago, Prince." Prince? What? Was his name actually Prince? Why was she calling him that?

The confusion must have shown clearly on his face, because she frowned at him and tapped his chest, where a green symbol- a cobra, he somehow knew it was depicting- was embossed on his shirt.

"You are the younger heir to the throne of the country, Runic. I know not how it fares, after all of my time within this dimension, but your title is still 'Prince of Runic', I'm sure." He couldn't argue that, though... the mention of the country made him feel... an ache. Pain. He decided not to mention it. Morgaine continued speaking, as though she had no intention of letting him interject.

"It is a pity I'll have to change my spell in order to send you off, but it is a price I'm willing to pay for the return of my solitude." He frowned, and tilted his head at her.

"Would it not make more sense for you to simply make a new portal, than to change the timed spell you are already using?"

"I do not have the power to open a portal to Ephedia or even Earth on my own, the only reason my spell still works now is that it is timed." Morgaine sniffed primly, as if he should have already known that. Mephisto frowned, and then glanced around.

"Well, you're not exactly alone right now. I don't know where either of those places are-" the former name sent a pang of longing through him tinged with anxiety and fear, while the second... gave him only a sense of disgust. He kind of preferred the disgust, it at least wasn't confusing, "-but I... am almost certain I can help make a portal." Morgaine frowned at him, and then nodded stiffly.

"Very well. But until we need a surge of power, I would prefer if you were not pouring dark magic all over my things. Cut your magical output off and detransform." He stared at her blankly before she explained what she meant; reign in the excess magic he was using to keep himself in this soot-stained and ragged form and squash it down until it was just a flicker in his core. It was simple enough to do, once he understood the principal, but it felt foreign enough as a process that he was almost certain he'd never done it before. He knew the yawning gap in his memories- everything before the crystal ball and a small scene just before it that flashed by too quickly for him to understand- meant that he had... something. There was a word for his condition, he knew it. He just... didn't know the word.

His hair fell into his eyes, suddenly, and he noticed the color change. Instead of the rusty burgundy he woke up with, it was now a soft orange. Not unlike Morgaine's braid, though not exactly the same color. His clothing had changed as well, but beyond noticing that his hands were now uncovered, he didn't really care enough to notice much about the change. The exposure of his skin wasn't... terrible, but he was very aware of it. Maybe he'd get used to it by the time they'd found a portal spell.

Morgaine led him to a door floating in the great expanse of nothing- there had been another door earlier, with the wing-like symbol adorning Morgaine's clothing embossed across it- but this one was blank. Were it not a pale purple with a darker purple handle, it would have blended seamlessly into the whiteness around them.

Morgaine opened the door, and suddenly there was a hole in the nothing into an actual room with dimensions, and shelves of books. The things towered above, from what little he could see through the doorway.


	4. Chapter 4

"-ess of Ephedia, the portal will put you down near her. You know her name, don't you?" Morgaine's lecture has been going on for what felt like days. He shakes his head vaguely, even as he knows she's said it before.

"Iris. Her name is Iris." She huffs, and he rolls his eyes.

It'd taken two weeks to find the book they were using now, to make the portal. Now it was finally time to use it. After her lecture has dwindled down to just reminders, he flips the pages of the book to the spell they were using. Morgaine stops speaking to begin preparing the spell. There was chanting involved, and it was a good thing both of them don't have to.

Nathaniel had started sending Iris texts. Nothing malicious to an outside observer, but every pixel had been crafted to bite back at her for lying to him, for messing up, for not being the one to tell him the truth. All of it. There were pictures, selfies of him and Praxina with smoothies or bathing suits or curled in bed, shots of her with his family or in his house with stuff Iris had left there, all paired with little messages. 'Wish u were here xoxo' and 'aw, ur fave :)' and 'remember this?'. It was passive aggressive and cheap and fueled by whatever Praxina was feeding him, truth or lies or whatever. And honestly, Iris didn't blame him. Or even either of them! It was her fault Mephisto was dead, her fault that Nathaniel hadn't known, her fault that he'd ever been in danger in the first place. That didn't mean that she saw any way out of this, or that any ending but this one would have happened.

Iris feels numb after a particularly terrible message. A picture of Praxina, cuddled in Iris' favorite blanket that Nate's mom had bought her when they were kids, with Nate's favorite movie playing in the background. Praxina looked good, better than ever. Healthy! Smiling with a piece of pie halfway between the plate and her lips, darkened both by shadow and what Iris could only assume was bruises from kissing too hard.

'Miss me yet?'

It hurt.

She doesn't know what to do. Auriana and Talia still out for the weekend, her heart still aching in her chest, her phone still laying on the couch inside. She wandered out to the dock, the water looking gorgeous in the late afternoon. Iris could feel her throat getting scratchy and her eyes getting cottony, but there was nothing to do other than try to breathe and feel the breeze in her hair, the dirt stuck to her toes, the warm wood under her feet.

Once the portal swirled into life, and it was stable enough to cross through, Morgaine handed him a bag of her books- every dark and gray magic book she had, though he currently hadn't used an ounce of dark magic since he'd woken up in this dimension- and shoved him into the portal. He yelped, and stumbled onto a wooden dock jutting out into a small lake. There was a large house (for a peasant, it wasn't anything to sniff at were it a palace), just behind the land-side end of the dock. There was a girl with a mass of golden curls a few feet away from him. Morgaine had said he'd end up in front of the Princess, so this must be her, right? He'd been so focused on his new surroundings he missed the portal closing, but it wasn't like he needed it open.

"Iris?"

Iris had been staring so intently at the water that she missed the fact that there was apparently an entire person on her dock. She jumps and wipes her eyes, looking at him. "What?"

Seeing the girl's face makes that scene play in his head, but this time it actually slows down enough for him to follow it. He sees her face, and then another girl's, and there's this blinding whiteness that hurts. He stumbles backwards in fear and surprise, and ends up falling off the dock with a yelp.

Iris stuck her hand out immediately, nonverbally sending a spell to surround him in a ball of crystal. She pulls it up, him swirling in the lakewater helplessly, and dumps him back on the dock closer to her. The water splashes around her feet, totally soaking them, but that doesn't stop her from kneeling down next to him. "Oh, uh, I'm so sorry. Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"S-sorry, I don't know what c-came over me. I, um, I'm fine." He holds a hand to his chest, and sighs a little when he pulls the bag Morgaine had given him to hold the books closer.

"You're Princess Iris, right?"

Iris pushed his hair out of his face awkwardly, wincing. "Sorry about that... Uh, what do you mean Princess?" She laughed awkwardly. "But yeah, my name is Iris. What do you need? Why were you on my dock? I didn't notice you at first, I've been in my own world." It's hard to keep the tears at bay since she'd been so close to crying a minute ago... Like if a dam were about to break, and juuuuuuust before it did someone threw a piece of scotch tape up against the crack. It wasn't doing much.

"I was sent by Morgaine, you don't have to lie." He breathes out slowly in an attempt to calm down.

"I'm sorry for intruding, I didn't mean to interrupt you."

Iris' jaw dropped before she hastily swallowed and shut it. "What? How did she send you, what happened? And... it's fine, it's fine, you're not intruding. I was just lonely and coming out here for no reason but... whoa. Is she coming? What's going on?"

"I, ah, got shoved into her dimension of solitude on accident. I helped her make a portal, did you miss it? It was not subtle. She is not coming, she still has another 9 years of hopefully uninterrupted solitude before she'll come out again."

Iris sighed in relief. "Okay good, I don't think I'd be able to see her like this." She gestured at herself and combed her nails through her hair. "What now though? Um, what's your name again?"

"I don't really know, she didn't have a plan beyond getting me out of her dimension as fast as possible. Oh, um, my name is Mephisto." He barely repressed the urge to tack on an 'apparently' to the end of the sentence, it felt like that would sound bad.

Iris choked on nothing, and after a short few seconds of staring at him the tears welled up again. They started spilling down her cheeks, her hands rising to wipe them away. "Oh."

He leans forward and reaches towards her worriedly.  
"Hey, hey, why are you crying? What's wrong?"

"I-I don't know." Iris swallowed, despite knowing honestly exactly why. "I just." She sucked in a breath and let it back out again as a sob. "I... I'm sorry."

Mephisto's eyebrows knit together, and he wiped some of her tears off of her cheeks. "It's okay to cry, you're okay. I'm just... confused? What happened? Did I say something wrong?"

"No, no. I was coming out here to do it anyway." She shook her head, but pressed his hand to her cheek. It was awkward, but she needed it. "I'm sorry. I... Nate hates me and you died and I'm freaking out."

"I'm not dead." He answers immediately, even as he runs his fingers through her hair gently with his other hand. "What happened with this 'Nate'?"

"He... She told him what I did, and he was pissed and he left. He picked her, and I don't blame him, because I killed you."

"I'm not dead." He repeats, frowning. "You'd think I'd remember dying, at least. And who is 'she'? I'm not following."

"Praxina. She's pissed and I don't blame her either, she'd do anything to... to get back at me." Iris coughed and rubbed her cheeks. "And everyone else is gone, and it's just them and me and it's hard."

"Then that's why I'm here. So you're not alone." He decides, mostly because Iris is small and pathetic and he doesn't really care about anything else- he doesn't know anything or anyone else- enough. "I don't know them, and I'm kind of at a loss for what I'm supposed to do, but I don't really care."

"What do you mean you don't know them? Don't you remember, Praxina, your twin?"

"...No? I don't actually remember much of anything before waking up in Morgaine's dimension, actually." He frowns a little, trying to decide if Praxina was a person, a name, he cared about. He... didn't know.

Iris fanned her face as the tears start getting worse. "Really? I... Do you remember Gramorr, the explosion? None of that?"

"I remember your face, and then a girl's face, and then this... painful flash of white. And then I remember waking up to Morgaine demanding to know how I snuck into her dimension."

That definitely didn't help matters. Iris sucked in a breath and held it until the next sob came. "So... you came straight to me?"

"Yes. Morgaine said to, so I did." He wipes her tears away again. "Should I have not?"

Iris shook her head, leaning into him. "I don't know. I'm... I'm not sure I'm the one you should be seeing, and when you do remember everything you'll hate me."

"I think you need someone to help you. You're clearly overwhelmed with everything. And... I don't think I'd hate you, even if I get my memories back. Why would I?"

"Because I killed you. Because we're on different sides. Because Praxina does, because Nathaniel does, because you deserve better than this." Iris pressed her face into her hands and groaned. "Do... do you want to just come inside? We can figure something out."

"Still not dead." He felt the need to point out.

"And I don't really care about Nathaniel or Praxina..." he could say with confidence he definitely didn't care about this Nathaniel. Praxina was giving him a pang of something, but he didn't know what it was supposed to be, and so he didn't much like it. "And if you want, I'd be happy to. Though you should probably finish crying, it's not a very good idea to bottle up negative emotions."

Iris swallowed and wiped the tears away, shaking her head. "No, no, I need to stop crying. There's... no reason to cry. I'm fine. It'll be fine. Like you said, you're not dead." She offers a small smile, but it doesn't do much to boost confidence.

"You came out here to cry, and your reason didn't go away just because I showed up. Let yourself feel what you're feeling. Don't you know bottling things up is one of the fastest ways to go dark?"

"I'm not going to go dark, I'm the princess of Ephedia." Her tone got a bit exasperated during the title, but she couldn't entirely be blamed for that. Iris stood slowly and offered him a hand. "Besides, it's better to cry over hot chocolate than sopping wet wood."

"You know the Ephedian Royal Family is known for its propensity to go dark. They're all very morally grey." He paused, and frowned a little.  
"How did I..."

"They are?" She frowns with him. "I... whatever. Come on." She shakes her hand at him, trying to make it clear that she wanted to help him up.

He didn't know how he knew that, but he unquestionably did. He'd have spent more time worrying about it, but Iris was standing up and motioning at him impatiently, so he tucked his legs in a little and floated up until he could stand.

Iris sighed and reached out to take his hand, sending a nonverbal spell over him immediately to dry him off. Since, of course, it was her fault he'd fallen in.

He's surprised she grabbed his hand, but then the magical warmth spreads and chases the water off of him, and he understands. All the same, holding her hand is actually kind of nice, so he doesn't try to pull away once the spell ends, either.

"Question. What's hot chocolate?" He'd heard her mention it, but he'd focused on the first part of her sentence too much to address it, earlier.

"Hot chocolate is a drink, like milk but... thick. Sweet." She supplies. Did Ephedia have chocolate at all?

He nodded a little, and glances at her house.

"Sounds rather Xerin. I... think I like sweet? I haven't had it yet but I like the idea."

Iris nodded. "It's pretty good. Come on, it'll be nice." She can still feel the tears bubbling up and occasionally falling, but it isn't as bad now that she's forcing herself to focus. "Do you like whipped cream?"

"I... don't know. Can I try it?" He tilts his head a little, smiling.

"It sounds nice, but I haven't the foggiest idea what it is."

"It's... I can't explain it." She giggles and swallows, shaking her head. "Can't believe the words slipped my mind. I've only been eating it since forever." But she shakes her head and starts walking toward the house, him in tow. "Maybe just try it?"

"Sounds like a plan. Do you have some prepared already, or are you going to make it now? ...I assume you have to make it."  
"I can just make some quick, it's easy." She offers a smile, weaving through the garden. "It'll be nice."

"Fair enough. I can't wait." He smiles a little and glances up at the blue dome he hadn't noticed before. The thing shimmers out of existence a few seconds later, but Mephisto doesn't really mind.

"Do you... have a small, blue cat?" He remembered the thing suddenly, unsure why it came to mind. Maybe the color of the shield jogged his memory.

Iris hummed. "A cat? No, I don't think I have a cat..." She paused at the steps to the porch. "I don't think I've ever been allowed to have a cat."

"Huh. Then why do I remember one?" He frowned a little, scratching the back of his neck distractedly. Sometimes he hated his memory. If he was going to get flashes, the least they could do was make sense for once.

"I mean, we have an Amaru. But he's not a cat." Iris pointed out.

"What's... an Amaru?" He frowned, slowly, and tilted his head.

"I have no idea what he is. But he isn't a cat! He's somewhere around here."

"...huh. I wonder what I was thinking of, then?" He shrugged, and motions at the door.  
"Is there some spell you say to open it? Morgaine's doors opened with a thought."

Iris reached out and slowly opened it, letting the door swing and creak loudly. "Nope."

Mephisto stepped back a little in surprise at the creak, but shakes it off after a few seconds.

"Oh. That... works too. How do you stop intruders from getting in?" He tilted his head at her curiously.

"There's a locking thing that shoves a piece of metal into the door and holds it there. So you have to break the wood to get in, if that makes sense." Iris shrugged, sure she'd said some part of that wrong. She gestures for him to step inside. "Ready?"

He follows, glancing around curiously.  
"I'm not following, but I'm sure I'll understand when I take the time to look into it."

Atleast he wouldn't ask her about it, Iris wasn't sure she could handle googling it and the subsequent questions about her phone and Google. But she ignores it and leads him to the kitchen, grabbing two mugs on her way.

"Sorry everything's kind of a mess..." She offers, glancing at the dishes on the tables and the leaning tower of unopened mail on the counter. "Hard to take care of yourself when you're alone."

"You clearly need the help. Why haven't you used magic to make these tasks easier?"

"I didn't grow up with magic so I guess I just never thought of it." Iris shrugged and starting pulling out the ingredients. Her face still hurt from crying, and she wasn't sure she wouldn't start crying again at the drop of a hat. "It's just... not the go-to."

Mephisto hummed, and moved to another counter to start at least making things look neat. He'd use magic to find out where it all went after he was sure Iris didn't need support right that moment.


End file.
